The Perfect Spy
by hippy of purple
Summary: The new and improved version. Chariot Allison, a spy for Voldemort, infiltrates Hogwarts using stealth, seduction, and magical spygear. Will Voldemort's plan succeed? Find out. Rated T for sexual refs and some language.
1. Chariot Allison

**Chapter One  
**Chariot lay on her bed in her white room, melting. The small osculating fan was doing its best to cool the room, but the sweltering heat seeping through the closed window wasn't helping. Her light, shoulder-length hair was fanned out over her pillow and it was damp where it met her scalp. Little beads of sweat stood on her brow and her body was overheated, her reddened face reflecting it.

Because of this extreme heat, the Muggle central air conditioning had broken, leaving Chariot thoroughly peeved. She was a witch, for Merlin's sake! Couldn't she rig something up that could make this heat a little more bearable? Hot and bothered, Chariot pulled herself up to her feet and opened the window in hopes of coaxing what little breeze there might be into her room.

She looked around the room. It was utterly different from the rest of the House which some found dark and opposing. Chariot agreed with them, but she was used to it. For her, it was simply home.

This room was naturally lighted and airy, where as the corridor outside was dimmed and muted with the red fire torches that hung on the decaying stone walls. Chariot had insisted on this room, both in decoration and for its position in the house, when she'd first been moved to the Riddle house. Her room had four good-sized windows, all overlooking the picturesque formal rose garden. Chariot loved her view and had fought for it by climbing up and clawing for her current position in ranking.

She groaned inwardly. The usually forgiving clock on the wall pinged eight o'clock. The weekly Report Meeting. Sighing, Chariot _limped_ into her closet and pulled a black hooded robe from a hanger. She hated these pointless meetings that much. All they involved was Voldemort 'checking up' on all the pathetic Death Eaters who couldn't do their jobs. Of course, he already knew the status of their missions. He knew everything. But the Dark Lord knew the secret of keeping his faithful followers loyal: let them think they have power when in reality, they have none. Allow the slaves their veneer of freedom.

A minute later, Chariot had donned her robe and lined her eyes with dark kohl, her blonde hair hidden and bound beneath her hood. On her way out, she locked the door with a wave of her hand. This spell made the door only accessible to her and her alone. One could never be too safe. Especially in this house.

* * *

Wordlessly, Chariot took her seat among the Death Eaters. Most of them were old, distinguished-looking men. A couple of the faces were women, but those were far and few behind. Many of them had been expelled to Azkaban, their seats empty, waiting for the day he or she would finally expire or be released; illegally, of course. Whichever came first. There were close to twenty-five people assembled, all dressed in the black hooded robes. Their heads were bowed and some had their heads bent together, talking quietly. This was always a solemn affair. Chariot was by far the youngest there. No one expected much from her because of her youth, but she always leapt over their expectations. Chariot sat between two men. One was Lucius Malfoy.

"Good evening, Lucius," Chariot said coolly. There was no use ignoring the man she'd partnered on more than one assignment.

"Hello, my dear. I hope you fare well, Chariot?" His voice was cooler. He didn't look at her, but kept his head bowed. He didn't dare and neither did she.

"I'm fine, Lucius. Thank you."

He rubbed at the inside of his forearm under his robe: The Dark Mark. Unconsciously, Chariot touched her arm too and was thankful she'd never been branded. Like a pathetic calf. Chariot had never had to receive the Dark Mark. She'd been pressured, of course. But the experience she had in her young age and unfailing loyalty to Voldemort had secured that, if anything, for her. Besides, that made her unmarked. The ideal Spy.

"Good evening to you all." He was here. Lord Voldemort. His chillingly unfeeling voice greeted them. Instantly, Chariot turned her eyes down. She didn't dare look him in the eye unless instructed. She'd felt the pitiless effects of the _Crucio _and _Imperio _curses. It wasn't something Chariot cared to feel again if she could help it.

"I trust I'll find you all have accomplished _something_." The word _something_ carried the connotation of _or else_ at the end. Chariot took a deep breath. Her assignment was completed the week before. She'd been camping out in the forest outside the Minister's Mansion for a month. Just to get a single conversation recorded. Personally, Chariot didn't understand nor care about her mission, but coming back empty handed was not an option.

Lord Voldemort went through the Death Eaters one by one as though reading down a list. He knew every Death Eater by name and kept close tabs on all of them.

"_Chariot Allison_. The Spy. Do you have the tape?"

It was her turn. Nodding, Chariot pulled a tiny chip the size of her thumbnail from its secure place in her robe. She placed it in the palm of one hand and with a flick of the other, it grew in size. In the blink of an eye, the chip covered her palm. Chariot placed it in the Dark Lord's outstretched palm. She didn't touch the eerily sallow, claw-like hand.

Chariot didn't see the nefarious hint of smile that crept onto his thin lips. But every other Death Eater did, however. "You have done well, Chariot." He slipped the tape into his robe and continued on. Even surrounded in men and women that could end her life with a flick of the wand and only two uttered words, her 'family', Chariot could breathe again. Until her next assignment anyway.

Near the end of the list, a man called Whitley hadn't done his job, hadn't finished his quota on time. There always was at least one that didn't finish and Lord Voldemort didn't take well to that.

At the beginning, Chariot had cried and trembled when she watched at these meetings as those who fell behind were tortured mercilessly. For that, she had been punished. Now, there was no weeping and hiding her face. Chariot flinched and averted her eyes to the floor, attempting to block out the sounds of the man twitching on the floor. She, however, was not one of those who stepped foreword, joining in on the tormenting of this man. She was a Spy and above that.

Chariot watched helplessly as she watched Lucius Malfoy stride forward with an out-pointed wand, muttering 'crutio' under his breath. Again and again, Chariot rationalized that Whitley deserved it, that he should have known the consequences, but never quite believed it. When Voldemort and his mob had had their way, the meeting dispersed and Chariot had to walk past Whitley, lying still on the floor, his breath shallow and rapid, slowly bleeding to death. He would pick himself up eventually, Chariot knew. It could have been worse. Death Eaters liked their victims to die a slow, terrible death. They'd fried his nerves so badly, third degree-like burns stood out on his bare skin where the black robe had shaken off. The marks were bleeding freely and unabashedly. Chariot had the urge to kneel beside him and heal him. But that would spell out doom for her so she stomped it out under her feet as she stepped over a bruised arm. A person could get used to anything.

* * *

If you're wondering why this looks familiar, it is. So don't worry, your not going insane, it's just me. lol. Really, I deleted this story because I was having a bit too much fun at the end and, long story short, about half of the entire story went in trash. So I wanted to fix it and that's in the works as I type. The first few chaps are pretty much the same, but with a few key differences for the changes in plot I want to make later, so don't skip em or you'll miss some important details. Much love, hippy


	2. Understandings

**Chapter Two  
**Chariot took a deep breath and gripped the tarnished handle of the silver water pitcher.

One…Two…Three…

The precautionary gulp of air she had taken was whipped from her lungs and she felt the familiar jerk at her navel when the Portkey was activated. When her feet hit solid ground again, Chariot's knees buckled and she fell to the floor.

She felt her eyes start to tear from the shock. _Do _not_ cry…_ Chariot instructed herself. She couldn't afford to be seen showing weakness. Gingerly, she got to her feet and brushed the invisible dust from her straight-legged black trousers. She heard someone moving around in the hall outside the room she was in so she shook out her hair and the bitter gleam slipped into her hazel-gray eyes.

A balding, squat man with small watery eyes hobbled through the doorway. He had receding, thin, greasy brown hair on his head. "The Dark Lord commands your presence immediately," he said, not directly addressing her though she was the only one there. His voice was feeble yet pompous.

"Wormtail," she said maliciously, ice dripping from the word. The slimy man loved to lord his closeness with the Dark Lord over her. Chariot didn't care. She, at least, had maintained a version of her dignity.

Head held high, eyes cold and fierce; a seventeen year old Chariot strode into the room to face him. Her heels clicked on the dark wooden floor of the lush sitting room. It had been two months since the meeting where Whitley had been tortured and had later died. Chariot had been on a new assignment since then.

Voldemort had called her here outside the weekly meetings; he was at a different residence. The room was dark all for a hot green fire blazing in the hearth. The only furniture undraped with the dusty white sheets was a red high-backed armchair and a lower, black velvet-lined stool. He sat in the great red chair, his blood-red snake eyes glaring serenely into the fire. The doorway into the room was placed on the left side if you faced the fireplace so the Dark Lord saw her come in.

"Chariot…" His voice was all steely warning. She wasn't wearing a robe today. The call to meet him with the use of a Portkey had come only that morning when she had only just collected her quota. He stood from his chair and walked over to her. It took all of Chariot's nerve to look him in the eyes. He raised his wand and Chariot restrained the urge to flinch. He mumbled something she couldn't hear and the door slammed shut behind her and she heard the clink of the locks bolting. "Do you have it?"

Chariot nodded and pulled a small parcel wrapped in brown paper from her pocket and put it in his large, deadly white, claw-like hands. "Here it is."

He walked away from her and ripped open the paper. "Good, good…" he said in no particular hurry then slipped the remains of the box into his robe.

Chariot's curiosity almost got the best of her and she almost asked him what was _in_ the package she'd delivered. She'd bite her lip and kept silent instead.

"Sit," he commanded. Chariot obeyed and lowered herself to the velvet stool. For what seemed like silence so long that time had utterly stopped, the Dark Lord didn't speak, only continued to stare into the jade fire. "In the coming months, Chariot, you will be needed to…finish what we started."

She nodded, averting her eyes modestly at the floor. Chariot knew the dangers of defying Lord Voldemort. She had the crescent scar on the back of her neck to prove it.

"We will now be initiating our next stage. Understood?"

Chariot could see through this ploy. He was daring her to object. She knew better and only nodded.

"You are excused," he said and with another wave of his wand, the doors unshackled themselves and flung open. "Wait in the anteroom," he said as she rose and left.

From the anteroom, for the door was only halfway closed: no one had bothered to shut it properly after Chariot had left, she guessed it was intentional. Around here, everything happened for a reason. Chariot could hear Voldemort speaking to someone. Some Death Eater, Chariot assumed. It wasn't Wormtail. He strode away on his pudgy legs with arms crossed, glaring at her. There was a tiny flicker of fear in his diminutive eyes.

"Keep her safe, Lucius," he warned from within. They were talking about her, Chariot realized. "Her name alone has been compromised--we cannot risk her being discovered. Her potential power over them is too great…" The other man, Lucius Malfoy, mumbled something in agreement and Chariot heard a POP. He had Disaparated.

Wormtail again entered the anteroom where Chariot sat eyeing the water pitcher. It would only take her home again when the Dark Lord wished it.

"Prepare to leave, now," he spat. He obviously hadn't seen her spying. He would have rejoiced in criticizing her. "The Dark Lord sends the message that you may bring only whatever possessions you deem necessary. Is that clear?"

Chariot rolled her eyes. "Yes, it is. Now, remind me what wouldn't be clear, Wormtail," she practically spat on him.

He scowled and turned on heel, limping out. More than ready to go home, Chariot took the silver handle again and with a jerk, was back in safety. _Breaking into Hogwarts. Impossible? No. Finishing the job? _Chariot hoped not.

* * *

Hi again. Hope you enjoyed this chap. Since I'm uploading a bunch more in just a minute, you can press the next chap key and read on. Don't forget to review! Much love, hippy


	3. Seduction 101

**Chapter Three  
**Charity stood in the Malfoy's grand Front Hall, the Portkey shaped like an age-old diary dangling from her fingers. She was alone, as always. She knew, going into this home, which she would have, at the very least, some power over the powerful Lucius Malfoy.

Within a moment or two, Lucius himself strolled into the Hall to greet her. He was a tall and physically dominant man; his pale hair elegantly fell to his broad shoulders. His eyes were liquid ice, but with none of the mystery associated with pale blue. The pupils were dark as slugs, crawling over her body, coldly assessing her, his thin lips stretched in imitation of a welcoming smile. Chariot knew not to cross him unless she absolutely had to, this summer.

"Welcome to the Manor, Chariot." He held out his hand. Chariot didn't want to touch it.

She shook his hand and returned his fallacious smile. His hands were ice and unwanted chills slid up Chariot's arm. "Thank you for having me this summer, Lucius." She took a stab at civility. They _were_ working together, after all.

Lucius pulled a tiny silver bell from a pocket in his black trousers. Within the one ring it made, a house elf appeared at their side. His tiny banged-up body, bluish skin, golf-ball sized eyes and bat-ears in the dilapidated sack made Chariot want to cry. Having servants was one thing, but treating them badly? Chariot knew what the line was for cruelty and Lucius Malfoy had just leapt over it.

"Take our guest to the Guest Wing, where she shall be staying." The little elf nodded and started down the hallway. "We dress for dinner. Be ready at seven-thirty." This time he addressed Chariot who met his cold eyes with equal indifference and nodded.

Chariot turned from Lucius Malfoy and walked down the Hall, making sure to hold herself straight as an iron rod with her head held high. She was afraid of only one man, and it was not Lucius Malfoy. She was his equal no matter what he thought he knew.

She and the elf walked in silence for a good fifteen minutes through corridors hung with dark, miserable drapery, no matter how luxurious, and poor illumination.

"What's your name, little elf?" she asked.

The elf stopped dead in his tracks so quick that Chariot almost stepped on him. "You, you want to know _my_ name, miss?" His shock was genuine. When she nodded in confusion he wrung his small hangs and his shrill voice was almost frantic. "No, no. It is not fitting!" Chariot knelt down beside him and looked into his huge brown eyes.

"You don't have to tell me your name if you don't want to, little elf," she said and smiled.

The poor little elf couldn't meet her eyes. That was a resounding 'no', Chariot guessed. "Ok, then. No offense taken. I will just call you 'little elf.'" Chariot's heart almost broke when he looked up at her smiling, glad that he wouldn't have to disobey his master.

Almost immediately, Chariot bit her lip. Surely she was being watched. And this act of kindness would surely be seen as weakness. And _weakness was not acceptable _was practically her motto Her stomach tightening, she followed the elf, praying to the gods of Hell that this incident wouldn't kick her in the backside later.

When they reached the Guest Wing, Little Elf left her alone to settle into her suite. 'Not too shabby,' Chariot thought as she walked through the Foyer. This was not like the rest of the house. It was painted in subtle earth tones, comforting furniture and art decorated the room. From where she stood, Chariot could see French doors leading out to a cast-iron balcony. She walked around and explored more.

In fifteen minutes, Chariot found that her suite in the Wing had its own two bedrooms; one with a window seat looking out onto a striking flower garden with adjoining bathroom and the other room was a living/study room with a desk, couch, bookcases provided with a few books, and, of course, the balcony.

That night, Chariot dressed in a pretty little black dress for dinner that was, while little, appropriate. She finger-combed her swing of blonde hair and tied a string of pearls around her neck. A couple rings on her fingers and she was ready to go. Chariot didn't bother with makeup tonight. She was not going to dress up too much for her hosts. Chariot didn't dress for anyone but herself.

Chariot and Lucius' wife, Narcissa, took their seats first. She tried to make pleasant conversations with her, but, as Chariot soon found out, Narcissa was dumber than a post, to put it nicely.

When Lucius arrived, he poured them a rich red wine and took his seat. No talk whatsoever. Chariot pretended to be immersed in a painting which hung on the wall behind Narcissa's head and sipped her wine. When the food arrived, Chariot was so grateful for something to do; afterwards, she had no idea what she'd eaten.

"My son will be joining us within the week," Lucius said with pride. "Draco's seventeen. The same age as you, Chariot, I believe."

'What a piece of useless information,' Chariot thought. She was here to work, not get friendly with some spoiled kid of Lucius Malfoy. "Wonderful," she commented instead. For the rest of the meal, she tried to keep the conversation light and non-Death-Eater related. But that proved difficult.

When they finished, Lucius left without a word, then Narcissa. So Chariot left too, wondering how she would survive the summer.

* * *

Two weeks later, Chariot sat on her bedroom window seat. She could see them outside greeting Lucius from a trip. The younger Malfoy had arrived a week ago. His father and mother had collected him, taking a car to London. They hadn't met yet. The boy looked tall, not as tall as his father, but tall. He looked skinny from her point of view, but that was hard to see. He also had his father's blond hair, but it was shorter, maybe hitting his shoulders. Chariot stared out the window until she wasn't looking at anything at all. They had already gone inside.

Little Elf knocked on her door and poked his bat-like head in. "Master requests you come downstairs, Miss Chariot," he said nervously, wringing his hands.

Chariot gave herself a mental shake and stood. She didn't need the elf to lead her around anymore. She could navigate to the family's Formal Living and Dining rooms and, of course, the Front Hall, by herself.

Before entering the Front Hall, Chariot checked herself in a hall mirror. Her cheeks were a little sunburned from being outside, but other than that, her skin was its usual paleness. Her darker blonde hair hung around her face, contrasting with her skin. Today her eyes were the usual gray and pierced her own reflection. Chariot glanced down at her clothes. A long, loose skirt and a sleeveless shirt: acceptable. The picture of innocence.

She stopped herself, realizing what she was doing. She didn't care about meeting the son, Chariot scolded herself. She took a deep breath and strode into the Hall. Show time.

When she rounded the corner, she collided with a pair of eyes. The palest of blues and hard and smooth like steel. The young Malfoy looked like solid ice. Smooth like steel. When she'd regained her own senses, Chariot saw something in the boy's eyes. Was it surprise? Whatever it was, it slipped away, leaving only coldness, hiding itself well.

"Draco, this is our…houseguest, Chariot," Lucius said. He'd purposely left off her purpose at their home. Chariot guessed he'd already told Draco about her in the car. "Chariot, this is our son, Draco."

Chariot smiled. He was more handsome than she wanted him to be and he smirked at her. "Pleased to meet you," she managed to keep her voice strong.

He looked her up and down and shook her hand, smiling ruthlessly. 'Ruthless and reckless,' Chariot thought.

"Hello, Chariot." His voice was deeper than she would've thought.

They were silent.

"Why don't you two change and go outside. Get to know one another. Hmm?" Narcissa asked pleasantly. It was the first time Chariot had heard Narcissa speak in a nice, motherly tone. Draco nodded. It appeared Chariot had no other option.

They left the Hall, his parents watching them. Chariot could feel the older Malfoy's eyes on her. She had to restrain herself from gagging. She loathed that man.

"Do you want to take a swim?" Draco asked agreeably when they were out of hearing-range of his parents.

Chariot looked him up and down, searching for a motive. "Sure. Meet you in the kitchen in fifteen minutes?"

When he nodded, she went back to her room.

Standing at the bureau, Chariot stared at her reflection in the mirror. She was pretty enough. Her body was supple and firm in all the right places. Maybe if Draco could be seduced he could be used to her advantage. She'd never tried this tactic before, but if she could pull it off, Draco could be infinitely useful in the future.

Decidedly, Chariot swabbed a bit of ruby lip stain from a jar of makeup. From her drawer, she found a black bikini that looked particularly good on her and slipped a pale green sundress over her head. She sat down at the vanity mirror in her room. A little sunscreen and a hair tie around her wrist and she left.

Chariot was in the kitchen fifteen minutes later and Draco was already there. He was wearing a pair of black trunks and a loose white linen shirt, the front unbuttoned. He had grabbed two fluffy white towels and they sat on a counter.

"Iced tea?" he asked when she approached him, maybe a little too eagerly.

"Sure," Chariot said with a smile as he slipped a chilled glass of the brown liquid with a red straw into her hand. Taking the towels under his arm, he led them outside to the pool.

The pool house was a wooden shack with crude windows that was magically air conditioned with a hot tub inside. Outside, he pool itself was carved from the rock outside and had a small waterfall in the corner. Hot sunshine spilled down on their shoulders as they walked across the hot stone.

Draco pulled out a couple of wooden chairs and dropped the towels on a table in-between. Then stripped off his shirt. Chariot didn't pretend not to stare. His upper body was muscled, but not overly so. Surprisingly broad shoulders tapered down to the low-slung waist. She'd been right. His platinum hair just hit his shoulders and fell shaggily into his eyes. The seventeen-year-old was gorgeous, Chariot had to admit. But she'd met far more beautiful men in her short lifetime and they hadn't impressed her. This one would not be the exception.

Draco sat down and sipped his iced tea. Chariot sat, but she kept her dress on, and sipped the tea.

"So how old are you, anyway?" he asked, eyeing her.

"Old enough." Automatically, Chariot's eyes smiled seductively back at him. She couldn't resist. "Why?"

"No reason. Are you really a Death Eater?"

Chariot didn't answer.

"'How do I know?' you ask. I hear things around this place, Chariot. I hear things."

Chariot swallowed hard, but stretched out on the chair lazily.

When she finished her tea, Chariot stood and turned her back to Draco, pulled the dress over her head. Slowly, she waded into the cold water. Dunking her head under, she swam into the middle of the pool. After a little while of bobbing up and down, Chariot did a couple laps. She was at the other end, but she felt the disturbance in the water as he got in.

"Want to race?" he called down to her, a maniac grin on his face.

Chariot had to smile. "If you think you're up to it," she said and kicked off, starting the race.

Twenty minutes later, Chariot's lungs screamed for oxygen. Not ready to lose, she slapped the side and turned to begin the next lap. Draco grabbed her wrist.

"Stop! I give in. Uncle! Uncle!" he gasped.

"Good. Thank Merlin. I thought I might have to die young," she wheezed, her voice raspy.

Chariot threw herself half up on the edge, her arms flailed in front of her and her cheek resting on the warm stone. She breathed heavily, catching her breath. He climbed up to sit on the edge, his breath equally ragged, his legs hanging in the water. When her cheek began to grow hot, Chariot copied Draco's position and sat on the ledge. Both of their breathing had slowed and deepened. They sat side by side in the silence.

Slowly, Draco turned toward her and gently, sweetly, kissed her. Once quickly, then looked into her eyes as if asking permission.

'Now,' she thought and let her lips linger on his.

Draco's hands found their way to her cheeks and held her in place, deepening the kiss. She had a hunger for him she didn't even know existed. Strangely enough, this was her first real kiss.

Her arms gripped themselves on his shoulders, pulling him towards her. His found her back and tipped her onto the stone, pinning her under him. He held himself balanced on his palms and came to his senses. His breath ragged once again, he sat up, taking his hands off her, embarrassed.

Chariot sat up, her face hot and flushed. Her breath was heavy as she stood silently and toweled herself off. Inside, she glowed with her victory, her very first in seduction. From a secret glance at his burning fact and eyes wandering her body, Chariot knew she'd intoxicated him. Lust was so telling.

From above, she could see Lucius Malfoy sitting up high in a window, watching them. And without a word, walked back to Draco and gave him a last, gentle kiss. Lastly, she pulled the sundress over her wet head and, with the towel and glass in hand, strode back into the house.

* * *

More up next. So go click the 'review' button, leave a message, and keep reading! Much love, hippy


	4. Break In

**Chapter Four**

"Getting friendly with that _boy_?" Lucius asked over breakfast the next morning. "You know sex can backfire on you, and through you, me," he added, giving Chariot the impression he was more worried about his own reputation than his son's feelings.

Chariot nodded like a child whose fingers were caught in the cookie jar. "Frankly, I don't know where you got an idea like that Lucius."

"_Frankly_, I'm quite pleased with this match: my son and, virtually, the Princess of the Underworld. But I'm not sure the Dark Lord would share in my opinion."

Chariot wasn't so sure. Anything to put her ahead. The Dark Lord had taught her that personally.

A lie, she needed a lie. "It won't happen again, I can assure you." She made sure her voice was hard and unfeeling.

The breakfast was only Lucius and Chariot: a business meeting.

"Has _He_ sent any confirmation of _what_ we're getting into, Lucius?" Chariot lowered her voice and changing the subject.

"Yes, he has actually. I received the order two days ago and destroyed it immediately."

Chariot's eyes flared. He had deliberately kept it from her to show his power of her. "_When_, exactly, were you going to share this piece of vital information?" she sipped the tea in front of her composedly.

"That was within my power to decide, I believe. This _is_ my house." He was reminding her of his power over her: his 'age-benefits.' "We must retrieve a roll of parchment."

"From where?"

"The Ministry of Magic."

Chariot nodded. This would be tough. But not out of reach, of course. She _had_ done it before. Nothing was out of reach.

* * *

On the night of the job, they stood just inside the front doors of the Ministry building.

"Did the occasion really call for such trappings?" Lucius eyed her, irritated.

She didn't answer him. Chariot had dressed in all black and lined her eyes with heavy kohl. Her heels clicked on the stone just inside the Ministry.

The building was mostly dark; the only lighting was from the fountain in the center of the hall and the moon shining through the glass windows set high near the vaulted ceiling. The fountain: all the creatures of the magical world in harmony. Chariot wanted to gag.

Lucius had gotten them inside, to the hall. He'd used his prestige and power within the Ministry to get them inside. Chariot didn't ask why the Ministry was closed. She'd thought it was open all day, all night. But it didn't matter that she didn't know. Thankfully not this time.

Chariot pulled a small kit of tools from her inner thigh. In a leather pouch the size of her fist were metal rods. She chose one and proceeded to pick the locks to the Minister's office.

She marveled at the idiotic simplicity of the Minister's security system. It was a Muggle system and was familiar enough from the last time she'd visited the Minister's office. The luck of it was that most wizards couldn't pick a lock if their lives depended on it. At least, that's what it appeared to be on the outside. Nothing but a locked doorknob. It actually boasted magical defenses, but those could be dealt with easily and in a few moments. First, the door.

With a finishing twist of Chariot's wrist, the latch clicked and the door swung open. Chariot checked the watch on her wrist. 'Not bad,' she thought. Forty-seven seconds. Not up to her usual standards, but not terrible. "Okay. Where to, Lucius?" she said quietly over the ringing water of the fountain.

Lucius pulled out his wand and entered the dark corridor. "Chariot!"

On her own cue, Chariot waved her wrist. Three small explosions illuminated the hallway. An indignant Lucius watched her pass.

'Pathetic security,' Chariot thought as she strode past Lucius into the office. It was a comfortable room and Chariot was impressed by the Minister's taste, if not by his prudence.

They began to rummage through the handsome desk at random. Chariot searched through drawer after drawer.

"I found it!" Lucius was thumbing through a file cabinet. He pulled out three small roles of parchment.

Chariot nodded and adjusted everything in the desk to where it was before. "Let's go."

As they entered the main hall of the Ministry again, Chariot waved her wrist. This time, instead of explosions, the cameras reassembled themselves with a slow burst of green light. Good as new. Best of all, no one would know that they had even entered the office. And as quietly as they'd come, Lucius and Chariot left the Ministry and Disaparated.

* * *

"Congratulations, Miss Allison, on a job well done."

They were back at the Malfoy Mansion, in Lucius' study. The room was dimly lit with only kindling burning in the grate.

Chariot clinked together her wine glass with his. "Thank you, Mr. Malfoy. Same to you, as always."

The scrolls lay on his desk. Chariot wanted to know what they were, but didn't dare moved to open them.

"You know, Chariot, you are a very beautiful girl." He put down the glass on the desk, leaving both hands free. Lucius seemed more dangerous that way. He moved closer to her, rested a warm hand lightly on her cheek.

Chariot turned her head away from his touch.

"Such wastes for a little boy like Draco…why, when you could have me…"

Chariot shuddered. She had to escape. In the struggle for physical supremacy, Chariot had no delusions of who would win.

"Yes. That does sound like an interesting prospect, Lucius." Chariot smiled teasingly. "But I'm afraid it is my bedtime." She backed herself to the door and pressed herself against it while she worked the knob.

Lucius didn't move closer. "Ah, so it is. You've won this time, my dear, but you will come to me eventually."

"As always, Lucius. I don't give myself away as easily as you like to think. Goodnight, Lucius."

"I have something for you before you leave."

Chariot finished off her wine with a hard gulp. "What's that?"

He tossed her the scrolls they'd just stolen from the Minister's office. "Fill these out. The Dark Lord wants them at the next meeting."

Chariot unraveled the parchment. She looked up from them in confusion. "Registration papers for boarding school?"

Lucius crossed his arms. "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, to be precise. I suggest you get started. This may take awhile."

* * *

Wa-ho. In retrospect, maybe a bit too much sex here and in the previous chap, but oh well. That's what the T-rating was for. After all, Chariot is on the dark side. Review real quick and keep reading! Much love, hippy


	5. Preparation

**Chapter Five**

Chariot Allison followed Lucius Malfoy into the corridor. In a moment, they would be back at the Malfoy Manor. They were using a Portkey, of course. Aparating and Disaparating didn't work in transmitting to, from, or in the Riddle House.

Chariot wished she could stop at her cozy quarters for just a moment. Just for a minute to herself for once. In the Malfoy household, she was always being watched.

In the weekly Report Meeting, she and Lucius had given their master the papers Chariot had filled out. The registration papers for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The forgery had taken literally hours to complete and expended a few of the connections Chariot had, but when Chariot was done, she had to admit she looked damn good on paper. A model citizen.

This assignment was one of major importance within the Death Eater queue and being that she was partnering Lucius Malfoy on it, Chariot was in a position of power.

Their new assignment was an extension of the old one. But this one would be long and grueling. Especially to Chariot who would be in the line of fire if anything were to go wrong.

Chariot would feign being a transfer student from Durmstrang. She would be sorted into the Gryffindor House with a little sabotage.

The hat would, naturally, place her in Slytherin. But to get close to the dear Mr. Potter, Gryffindor would have to do. Chariot would follow the script Lord Voldemort had written, supervised by Lucius Malfoy. She would follow the script at all costs.

"It seems the Dark Lord approves of your…_relationship_ with my son," Lucius said once they had returned to his manor. There was almost a grudge in his voice.

Chariot didn't answer. _No kidding_.

"I must agree with him. Except…" Lucius said smoothly, moving his arm gracefully around her waist.

Chariot stepped away. "I don't think so, Lucius. I make it a point not to have affairs with my colleagues."

"So you have said, my dear. I will have you eventually and you will come willingly." A threat, presumably. "They all do," he said as an afterthought and walked away.

That night before dinner, Chariot stood in front of her closet. She was thinking about Draco. Certainly he would be at dinner. She hadn't seen him since that day at the pool. Obviously, he had thought of her.

How to bring that thread closer was the next question. Looking in her wardrobe, Chariot found herself what he would like, what would impress him most. She shook the thought from her head, rebuking herself. Seducing a spoiled teenage boy shouldn't be a problem.

Finally, she pulled a chocolate brown dress over her head with a ring to match. After running a brush though her hair, Chariot left.

In the formal dining room, with its long mahogany table and stiff chairs, Chariot found Draco. His parents weren't there yet.

Chariot was thankful. Keeping Lucius' hands off her was beginning to be a job in itself. But he wouldn't dare do anything in front of his family. Would he?

Also, she was thankful she would be able to speak to Draco alone. But he apparently wasn't in the mood. They made their hellos and stood awkwardly in silence. Draco watched her, his hardened steel eyes raked over her, almost painfully.

In an odd way, Chariot enjoyed his eyes scouring her being. It proved she'd won.

When his parents arrived, Draco pulled out a chair and seated her then sat down himself but continued to watch her in his subtle way. Chariot was sure Lucius, if not Narcissa, noticed.

"Draco, our guest Chariot will be joining you at Hogwarts in the coming weeks. Transferring from Durmstrang, aren't you, my dear?"

Chariot nodded. "Yes, of course. I look forward to it." Chariot was confused. Surely Draco already knew she had in no way attended any magic school before. How dim did Lucius think his son was?

Draco simply nodded and sipped his wine: uninterested. Perhaps he didn't like her as much as Chariot had thought. Perhaps, for once, Chariot was wrong.

* * *

Chariot had packed up the few things she chose to take with her to Hogwarts. Mainly clothes and school supplies.

But tucked into the folds of fabric she had hidden a stun wand, a small dagger, and her trusty vial of invisibility potion. The wand, when touched with the lightest stokes, would set a fire or send volts of energy into a man and stop his heart. It was a slim and even beautiful thing, but it was deadly. It was Chariot's most treasured possession and could kill a fully grown bull elephant.

And of course the invisibility potion was useful in its delicate crystal vial. The liquid itself was a deep eggplant purple, but through the crystal, it was dull ebony.

The dagger was mostly for show, for threats. In the wizarding world, she would be stunned or worse by the time she got close enough to do any damage with the blade but one could never be too prepared.

Ready to leave the Manor at last, Chariot strapped the tiny vials to her thigh, just above her knee. They were hidden under the uniform skirt, no one would check there.

Inside the first one, in the clear glass was an emerald-hued potion that would insure her placement Gryffindor House. It had been prepared by Lord Voldemort himself. Chariot would take it in the train, minutes before being sorted.

From her body, it would seep into her brain and send messages to the Sorting Hat. Instant Gryffindor. It would also block out all thoughts she might have about her job at the school. The hat couldn't know what she was really doing there. It would most certainly tell someone her true intentions.

The second vial was an antitoxin found in any simple potion book. Chariot had brewed that herself. It was easy, so Chariot knew it would work. Also, it had turned the promised hazy white.

The first potion would, in an hour or two past ingesting it, poison her brain, shutting it down, and leak into her bloodstream, leading to her heart and lungs which would cease to beat and absorb oxygen. If she didn't take the antitoxin in time, Chariot would slowly suffocate and die.

Chariot shook her head and climbed into the car. Draco was already inside.

There was no need to think about possible death. Not anymore. Overanalyzing often led to rushing and when you rushed, mistakes were made. She couldn't afford any mistakes on this job.

In a minute, Lucius joined them. The script was that Chariot was an exchange student and her family knew the Malfoys. Lucius was escorting her to school on the first day as a favor to Chariot's uncle. What he was really doing there was making sure the first phase went off without a hitch. The rest would be up to Chariot.

They arrived at the train station and Lucius handled the business with Chariot's and Draco's luggage.

"You're not going to ride the train, are you?" Draco asked. Of course he knew the answer. It was obvious.

"No. I will Aparate, then take a car," Lucius answered patiently.

Chariot was surprised. At both of them. Lucius was extremely cool and calm. Especially for the extreme importance of the job they were just started.

Chariot had earlier taken a Calming Draught to cool her frazzled nerves. Her nerves were probably the best in the business. That's why she was so good at her job. And even she had needed magical help with this task.

Draco was also oddly cool and calm, Chariot thought. He had to know what was going on. Living with _who_ he did, with his intelligence, he _had _to know. But whatever he knew, or didn't know, Draco disguised it very well.

* * *

Hello, all. Well, please continue to read and review. Mostly read, but I would love to see some reviews in my mailbox tomorrow. Much love, hippy


	6. Phase One

**Chapter Six**

Chariot Allison leaned her head against the window, staring. The train ride would be long. Especially so because she was utterly alone. Nobody had joined her--not that Chariot had expected anyone would. They would have no reason to. Here, she was unknown.

Nobody knew even her name but Draco and Chariot highly doubted he would visit her. If Draco was anything like his father, and Chariot suspected he was, he wouldn't be the sort to fraternize with some girl with no known reputation. Not in public, at least.

Her solitude was also a relief. It would be easier to drink the potion without having someone looking over her shoulder.

With that note fixed on her mind, the hours flew by like a bullet surrounded with a Decelerate Charm and the time came for Chariot to swallow the potion. Earlier, she'd bought a flask of pumpkin juice from the snack cart. She could just mix the two together. Easy. Lord Voldemort had told her she could. The added pumpkin juice wouldn't cancel out the effects of the potion. For the moment, Chariot trusted the Dark Lord. He wanted this job finished and successful as much as Chariot needed it.

Chariot breathed a sigh of relief that she was alone. The potion had, when mixed with the juice, flashed the flask to an eerie gray followed by a bright golden light. It was back to its normal tangerine color so Chariot drank it. It tasted funny as if it had been laced with a Coloring Potion, but it was alright.

* * *

Minerva McGonagall stood in her office, waiting for the new student. She would most certainly be placed in Slytherin, but they had pulled the Sorting Hat down anyway. Oddly enough, she had transferred in the sixth of her magical training. The girl was a transfer from Durmstrang Academy and a friend of the Malfoys. Most definitely Slytherin material.

Before answering the door, Minerva glanced at the girl's registration papers. _Chariot Allison._

"Hello…" Chariot said when Minerva let her inside the office. It was naturally lighted, the only illumination the streaked light that fell through the blinds.

"Professor McGonagall," she supplied.

Chariot decided this woman was someone she should stay away from. She had the means and attitude to investigate Chariot if Chariot attracted too much attention.

"I trust your train ride was acceptable, Miss Allison?"

"Yes, Professor." Chariot readjusted her robe on her shoulders.

"Good. Now for your Sorting." She took the tattered Hat off the table and placed it on Chariot's head.

Before the mind-reading Sorting began, Chariot took a deep breath, trying to clear her mind of any thoughts that may exploit her. Potions were never one hundred percent reliable. Chariot heard the hollow voice in her head, as if someone were whispering in her head.

_Very brave, that is obvious. You are also intelligent, no doubt. Good at what you do. What House do you desire, dear?_

"_Gryffindor! _I_ don't belong in Slytherin_," Chariot pleaded silently.

_Well in that case, you are most definitely a GRYFFINDOR!_ "GRYFFINDOR!"

Chariot breathed a sigh of relief and almost laughed at the expression on McGonagall's face. Her jaw dropped and her eyes widened. Minerva recovered in a moment and took the Hat.

"Welcome to Gryffindor, in that case, Miss Allison. Now, go. They're expecting you at the Feast, I'm sure."

Chariot stood and straightened her robes, thanked the Professor and left.

Chariot made her way to the Great Hall through a series of dark corridors lit by fire sconces. As she entered the propped-open heavy wooden doors, her breath caught in her chest. The Great Hall was beautiful with its old-world grandeur and enchanted ceiling imitating a clear, starry night sky.

Chariot made her way to the Gryffindor Table. The House tables were dark wood and benches; the Staff Table was rich, milky marble. The Gryffindor Table sported a burgundy-hued banner embellished with a gold lion and the Gryffindor Crest that had appeared on Chariot's plain robe after her Sorting. The Hall was crowded with students who were chatting unconcernedly as Chariot passed them and quietly took her seat in the middle of the table.

And for the first time, Chariot was terribly aware of the importance and extremeness of the endeavor she was performing. If all went according to plan, Chariot would bring Hogwarts to its knees.

The actual Sorting began and a misshapen line of terrified-looking children tottered foreword. Then Professor McGonagall stepped from behind the lake-like appendage that had appeared at the end of the line with the Hat in hand. In the front of the Hall, there was a stool upon which the child sat in front of the entire school and was Sorted.

Chariot silently cheered that she was awarded a private Sorting. Imagine having your private thoughts paraded in front of every peer you'll know for the next seven years. When the twenty or so first-years had been sorted into the four Houses, the headmaster Albus Dumbledore stood to speak. Chariot remembered him from the photographs Lucius had showed her. He was one she had researched most before coming.

"First of all, welcome to Hogwarts! Both to new students and to those of you returning." He gave a brief explanation of school rules. "…and remember: the Forest was named the Forbidden Forest for a reason. Please, no trespassing into it." Here, he eyed the Gryffindor Table. "Now, please. Dig in!"

A boy from down the table held her gaze for a moment before turning back to his friends. Chariot smiled to herself. It was him alright. Scar, glasses, and all. _Harry _Potter. She'd found him.

* * *

A/N: just in case it hasn't been obvious in the whole HP series, Chariot's job is Harry. just a comment.

This was kind of a boring chap, but it had to be done. More cool spy stuff in the next chapter. Review, and continue! Woo. much love, hippy


	7. Fabulousness, pt1

That night, Chariot lay in her bed and heard the clock in her room tick nearer to midnight. The only sounds in the dormitory room were the slow breathing of her roommates, aggravating girls by the names of Parvati and Lavender.

As she lay on her side, staring out the slightly-cracked window at the moonless night, inspiration dawned in Chariot's mind and she couldn't help but grin into her arm. Risky? Definitely. Fun? Oh, yes.

Harry Potter. Hermione Granger. Ron Weasley. She would get the spellbook from the library and these three, this renowned "trio" of the wizarding world, would help her to get it. Or steal it, more like.

The irony was almost unbearable. Harry Potter would find her the very spell that would destroy him. She cackled aloud, a momentary lapse of control. She would make a plan that very night and it would be fabulous.

It was decided. Tomorrow, her plan would unfold.

In the morning at breakfast, the schedules would be passed out among the marmalade and jams and toast. There would be potions and transfiguration, among them. At the end of the meal, all the students in the Hall would don their black robes and start collecting their books from the tables.

_Harry Potter_. Chariot sighed and shook her head. Too bad, she mused. He was almost cute--in a helpless way. It really was too bad he was going to die so young.

Ever the snake, Chariot smiled at him. Nervously and obviously off-guard, he smiled back and then quickly looked away.

All alone, Chariot shyly tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and dropped her gaze modestly. Demurely. Ladylike. She needed to be sweet, shy. _Under the radar_.

If she went unnoticed by all but a few people, escape would be easy. Nobody trusts an overly-confident teenager, Chariot mused. Just look where confidence had gotten Draco Malfoy.

With a flourish, Chariot signed her name on the bottom of the note. The love note. For Draco. Contented, she reread her handiwork.

_Dearest Draco,_

_I can't stop thinking about you. Meet me in the corridor near the library at midnight tomorrow night. I need to talk to you…alone. I have something for you._

_With love,_

_Chariot_

Perfect, with a final heart near his name, she pocketed the parchment. Chariot watched with amusement as he stood gravely and swaggered out of the Great Hall. To her surprise, his goons didn't stand with him.

Wait… One… Two… Go. With almost a smile on her lips, Chariot stood and followed. Like with all prey, timing is key. This would be no different. Draco was a mark, a pawn. If all went well, which it would, Chariot would have Draco pinned to the ground before he could protest. Metaphorically, of course.

Wandering out of the Great Hall, Chariot followed the corridor past a row of classrooms as she tailed Draco. Most of the doors were unlocked, and Chariot poked her head in at every opportunity.

She was building her own 3-D map as she went along. To gather the information and resources she would need, Chariot had to know the school first hand. It also didn't hurt to keep a safe distance behind her unknowing guide. He was walking ungainly slow so Chariot knew she had time.

Almost with disgust, Chariot thought of the recklessness Draco was using. He would be a full-fledged Death Eater at this time the next year and yet he seemed not to sense her. Not hear her, nor smell her, nothing. To Chariot and her experience, this greenness of attitude, this carelessness, was intolerable. She could do nothing but shake her head. He would learn to be prudent when the time came, or he would fall.

_Empty. Empty. Empty. Broom closet. _She shut another door with a satisfying click; satisfying meaning hardly audible to even her trained ears.

In spite of herself, Chariot was almost dismayed. She'd always thought of Hogwarts as a place of amazing learning. Here, the best of the best came to study magic. As she'd never received a formalized magical education, she had always built up the place in her mind to an unachievable height.

Who knew Hogwarts stood empty?

It really was a shame. These classes probably brimmed at one point in time. Chariot supposed that since the rise of Voldemort, school attendance had dropped dramatically. No place was safe anymore. Not even Hogwarts was as safe as Dumbledore liked to think. After all, Voldemort already had his fingers dipped into the school through Chariot and, Chariot guessed, through the children of Death Eaters.

Finally, Draco appeared to stop, entering a classroom and closing the door.

Unfazed, she entered. He his form bent over a table and he froze. Before she'd barged in, he'd apparently been scribbling a note. Chariot smiled through lidded eyes by way of a greeting.

He caught her glance, and looked away, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. "Well, hello to you too." He shoved the parchment into a pocket and crossed his arms over his chest. "What're you doing back here anyway?"

Chariot watched him closely as he carefully avoided her eyes. Playing dumb, she examined her nails. "Just looking around, I guess."

He raised his brow. "Really."

From where she leaned against the door frame, Chariot could see the tension in his body, the way a muscle in his forearm twitched and the way his face strained so as not to convey emotion. Perhaps he was interested after all. Or something interesting was in that note.

Intrigued, Chariot stood and moved closer. When they were no more than a few inches apart, she stared up at him.

Softly, she asked "were you writing about me?"

Draco shook his head. "My, my. Vain, aren't we?"

Chariot appeared bored but her eyes challenged him. "I guess so."

Draco rolled his eyes and smirked. "Merlin. Just admit you followed me here. You want me."

Chariot rested her hands on his chest, tracing a flower on the panel of his robe. They were almost the same height. "Exactly." She leaned in close as if to kiss him, watching his eyes close.

Chariot allowed herself a moment of surprise. Clearly Draco made himself known as a ladies' man. If she didn't know better, she would have thought Draco would be staring right back at her to gauge her reaction to his studliness.

"Goodnight," she said briskly instead, backing out of the room and patting his chest. He stared after her. With a laugh in her voice, she walked back down the corridor where the feast was ending. "Sleep tight."

As she moved to the Great Hall, Chariot almost laughed. She enjoyed this way too much. From down the corridor she could hear Draco swear audibly.

Draco needed to learn about pockets, obviously. Never put anything anywhere you can't feel if it's being stolen. She pulled the parchment he'd been scratching at from her sleeve and slipped it into her own pocket.

She smiled and ruffled her hair. The switch had gone like clockwork. Next, Harry and his pathetic friends. It would be fabulous.

* * *

Hello all. Sorry about the enormous break in between these chappies. With all my semester finals and new classes, I've been uber-busy. Find out what fab-ness will surface. Getting to work on it now. Also, I would love to see some reviews for this story in my mailbox pretty soon, so get crackin! lol... kidding. Happy Thursday, hippy 


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